


Prompt 1: Coffee Shop AU

by emmaknitsalot



Series: Flufftober 2020 [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Flufftober 2020, Gen, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaknitsalot/pseuds/emmaknitsalot
Summary: "The bubbly redheaded barista made the best black-coffee-with-room-for-cream he’d had in the entirety of New York, and he did not get paid nearly enough to go to work uncaffeinated."Or, Magnus buys coffee at the same place every day before work and it's always perfect, until one day the incredibly attractive man at the machine gives him the wrong order.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Flufftober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961794
Comments: 8
Kudos: 125





	Prompt 1: Coffee Shop AU

**Author's Note:**

> Flufftober 2020 prompts found at vex-bittys dot tumblr dot com.

Magnus awkwardly held his jacket over his head as he ran through the Saturday morning crowds milling about the cold New York streets. The jacket did absolutely nothing to protect his hair or makeup that he was now regretting spending so much time on this morning. There was only so much hair and setting spray you could use. The rain-snow-sleet, whatever it was, certainly wasn’t doing his leather shoes or pant cuffs any favours either. 

He was late for his shift at the makeup counter at Macy’s. He point blank refused to go into work without his customary black-coffee-with-room-for-cream that he always got at the same little cafe squeezed unassumingly between a post office and a convenience store. The bubbly redheaded barista made the best black-coffee-with-room-for-cream he’d had in the entirety of New York, and he did not get paid nearly enough to go to work uncaffeinated. 

He finally made it to the little cafe with its kitschy decor that didn’t match the music coming from the speakers. There was a line of about five people in front of him, but Magnus was beyond caring at this point. He’d just use his time in the line to try and mop up the black streaks he was sure were smeared down his cheeks. The front-facing camera on his phone was finally good for something. 

“What on earth happened to you, Magnus?” Clary, with her fiery hair piled precariously on top of her head, asked him as he flopped forward onto the counter.

“Clarissa darling, I know you pretty much live here in this dark little coffee shop—is that a new record player, how charming—but outside, its a hurricane of frozen rain.” He gazed mournfully up at Clary and handed her some money. A huff to his left distracted Magnus from actually placing his order, though Clary knew what it would be anyway. “Clarissa, you haven’t introduced me to tall dark and grumpy over here.” He rested his chin on his fist and exaggeratedly batted his eyelashes at said man. The man—tall dark and grumpy—was behind the espresso machine expertly frothing milk. His arms were bare and covered in colourful tattoos that Magnus immediately decided he would love to get up close and personal with. Magnus could almost feel his pupils dilate at the sight of the man’s glaring countenance, topped with the most absurdly pettable mop of unkempt black hair. 

So Magnus was thirsty, excuse him. 

Clary snickered, which only made the man glare harder. “This is Alec,” she said. “He will make your coffee today.” 

Five minutes later, he was squelching his way out the door to his shift, clutching his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

It wasn’t until he was nearly there that he took a sip of his still-hot coffee and realised it was some horrible frothy concoction that tasted like hazelnuts, of all things.

*

“Clarissa, my love, your new barista gave me the wrong coffee yesterday!” It was Sunday, and this time Magnus was not late for work. The hot but grumpy barista was currently glaring at some glasses he was drying. “Your gorgeous face will get stuck like that, darling!” Magnus called out to Alec, delighting in the pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry about that, Magnus! We will make you another one, on the house.” She threw a packet of sugar at Alec who was determinedly not looking at them. “Won’t we, Alec?” She got only a grunt in reply as he busied himself at the espresso machine.

Magnus gave a forlorn sigh and turned back to Clary. “He’s lucky he’s so pretty,” he loudly whispered. She burst into tinkling laughter, drawing looks from other customers and causing Alec’s pale blush to become a mortified red. Alec pushed the large takeaway cup toward Magnus and hurried off into what was presumedly the kitchen, without a word. Magnus beamed sunnily at Clary, took his coffee cup, and headed out to work.

Halfway there he had a sip of his coffee. It was the most perfect black coffee he’d ever had, no cream required.

*

The next morning passed in much the same way. He stopped at the cafe on the way to work (blues music was coming through the speakers today), ordered his usual coffee from Clary (paying for it this time), and headed off to work in the biting cold. 

One sip had him turning right around and marching back to the cafe.

There was no Clary at the counter this time, only tall-dark-and incapable of getting a coffee order right was there, rearranging mugs on top of the espresso machine. 

“I know you’re new, Alec dear, but black coffee doesn’t come with milk and vanilla flavouring,” Magnus said, tapping on the counter to get Alec to look up at him. It was as though the blush was permanent now and as annoyed as Magnus was about having to come back for the correct coffee, he couldn’t help but be endeared by it.

“Sorry, uh, Magnus, it must’ve got mixed up with someone else’s order,” Alec said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “I’ll get you another.” He handed the new—correct—coffee to Magnus with a half-smile, half-grimace.

“Thank you, darling,” Magnus said, smiling and taking the cup. He dropped a few coins into the tip jar and strolled out of the cafe and to work. 

*

The following week went like this: Magnus would go and order his usual coffee before work, and Alec would make him a different weird beverage each time. He’d then go back to the cafe and ask for the correct one, and Alec would make it free of charge with an excuse:

“I must’ve misheard your order.”

“Clary wrote it down wrong.”

“I accidentally read someone else’s order instead of yours.”

And each time Magnus would leave with the most perfect black coffee he could imagine.

*

“I do believe you’re being flirted with, my friend,” Magnus’ best friend Ragnor said, crackling through the bad video call connection. He was in London and obviously didn’t have a clue how flirting worked.

Magnus scoffed. “Hardly. A normal person would flirt by, I don’t know, writing their phone number on the cup?” He had propped his phone up on the bathroom counter so he could take his makeup off while talking to Ragnor. It was the end of another long day at the makeup counter, that, of course, began with the wrong coffee order.

“Boring,” Ragnor said. “He obviously wants to keep seeing you.”

“No, not obvious, he’s lucky I go back at all!” Magnus grumbled. “Honestly if he wasn’t as pretty as he is, I’d find another cafe. You should see him Ragnor, all blue eyes and black hair, ugh, and the tattoos!” Magnus gazed thoughtfully into his mirror. “I wonder if he has any anywhere else?”

“I don’t want to know about his tattoos, hidden or otherwise,” Ragnor said, sighing. “Why don’t you go and ask for his number, you clearly have a bit of a crush on him.”

“I do not, the man can’t even get a coffee order right!”

“On that note, I am going to bed. Do let me know how it goes.” Ragnor disconnected the call before Magnus could answer.

“ _Rude_.” Magnus finished his routine and went to watch some mindless television to wind down from the day. And if later that night he dreamed about blue eyes and black coffee, it was nobody’s business but his.

*

As it turns out, it was six whole days before Magnus was able to lay eyes on the gorgeously incompetent barista again. The damp and icy weather had finally beaten him, and he’d come down with a cold that he no doubt caught from some miscreant at work. He’d left his apartment prepared today though; he wore a bright purple feather-filled puffy jacket, thick woollen socks with sturdy boots and he had even opted to wear a knitted hat on his head, forgoing his usual hair styling. His legs were still cold through his jeans, but he figured the most important organs were warm, and that is what counted. 

He walked into the cafe to find it empty except for Clary and Alec behind the counter. To his amusement, Clary was beating Alec with a tea towel as he cowered behind the pastry cabinet. 

“Are you serious, Alec!?” she screeched, throwing the tea towel at him and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your social ineptness cost you a loyal customer!” She untied her apron and threw it on the bench behind the counter. “I’m going on a break. For _twice as long_.” She glared witheringly at him and flounced off to the kitchen. 

Magnus took his puffy jacket off and hung it on the hook near the door. “Hello darling,” he said as he walked up to the counter. “Have I arrived at a bad time?”

Alec spun around in surprise at the sound of Magnus’ voice. “Oh thank god!” he said in relief, visibly sagging. “Black coffee?” he asked, already pulling down the large cardboard cup.

“Yes, thank you, my dear,” Magnus replied, smiling and pushing the money toward him on the counter. “But I’ll have it in-house today, it’s my day off.”

Alec stared at him in horror before he snapped out of it, reaching for the ceramic mugs. “I’ll bring it over to you. Go find a seat…wherever,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the empty seating area. 

Magnus made his way to a comfortable looking velvet armchair in the corner by a window. He didn’t have to wait long before a tray was being set down on a neighbouring table. Alec placed his coffee—black, he confirmed—in front of him along with what looked like the most glorious piece of apple pie he’d ever seen. Alec visibly steeled himself and then sat down in the armchair opposite, with his own cup of coffee. 

“I know you didn’t order the pie, but I thought why not carry on with tradition, and I don’t know how much you heard when uh, Clary, was whacking me with the towel, but I’m super awkward as you probably worked out for yourself and I wanted to see you again because I think you’re uh, beautiful, so I panicked and made the wrong coffee in the hopes that you’d come back again and it totally worked except you haven’t turned up for the past week, and I was convinced you had given up on me, I mean, our coffee, so I blabbed it all to Clary, which is when she started hitting me with—“

Magnus’ smile had been getting wider and wider as Alec kept nervously babbling until he reached forward and placed a finger across his lips. “Breathe, darling,” he said. “And give me your phone.”

Alec looked dazed. “Uh, what?”

“Your phone, darling.” He wiggled his fingers expectantly. Alec fumbled his phone onto the table between them and looked a little bit sick, face pale with splotches of colour high on his cheeks, and what lovely cheekbones they were. 

Magnus tutted as he swiped the phone open and found his way to contacts. “No passcode Alec? I see you like to live dangerously.” He handed the phone back to Alec before picking up his coffee mug, cradling it in both hands to warm his frozen fingers. He closed his eyes and had a long sip, humming contentedly at the, of course, perfect taste. 

“Why uh,” Alec stumbled over his question, staring at his phone screen.

“That’s my number, Alec. You can use it to call me, or text me if you prefer, later tonight to ask me out on a date.” Magnus smirked at Alec over the rim of his still-steaming mug. 

“Oh my God, Alec, pull yourself together before I call Jace and tell him all about this!” Clary yelled from the kitchen, clearly eavesdropping. 

“Shut up, Fray!” Alec yelled back, sticking his middle finger up in her general direction. “Or I’ll make you open every day for a week!” He turned back to Magnus with a smile like sunshine. “Yes, okay, I will definitely text you. Tonight. To date. To ask you on a date. Oh, my God.” He flopped his head back onto the armchair and closed his eyes.

Magnus’ chest swelled in affection, at this gorgeous, awkward man, so determined even though he clearly wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. 

Alec took a deep breath and leaned forward again to pick up his own coffee. And if they sat there grinning at each other without saying a word, well, that was no one’s business but theirs. 


End file.
